Maia Reficco Ethnicity Novels & Stories

She raised her brows at me. "Aren't you going to introduce yourself?" Joshua asked, making me look at him. "Oh sor...sorry I am Malia. Malia Gonzalez." I said. "Gonzalez?" Anita asked, making me look at her. I nodded. "You are Italian?" She asked. I nodded. "Yes." She hummed. "You didn't tell us your age." Annie claimed my attention. Gosh, she sounds bossy like her mother. "I am eighteen years old." I said.

I went up to my room to change, a pair of clothes I'd bought at a thrift store so I could look for a job folded on top of the desk, ready to be put on, I put them on and ran downstairs, feeling more and more hopeful. Bob explained to me on the way about the company his daughter worked for, and this made me very excited. It was a very famous cosmetics company, Make-Pró. It was a new brand, about five years old, but it was highly promising, many bloggers were talking about it, and I had her entire collection of lipsticks in my purse, which was cowardly stolen as soon as we arrived at the house Bob had given us in the Bronx.

Mia's bright smile and infectious laughter drew to us. She was a stunning blonde with long, sun-kissed hair that cascaded down her back like a golden waterfall. Her piercing blue eyes sparkled with warmth and friendliness as she engaged in conversation with Alexis. Mia's features were delicate yet striking, with high cheekbones and a petite nose. She had a radiant glow about her, exuding confidence and poise. Her American accent was evident in her speech, and I could tell she was someone who was comfortable in her own skin.

The little woman drew herself up to what must be her most impressive height. Maybe four-ten. “I am not a cook.” She sounded outraged by the idea. “That narrows down the chances of it being poisoned then.” Mia strolled over to the tray, lifting the salver to nod appreciatively. “You may leave, Fifi.” “I am Selena Hernanda-Fuendo, descended from an Aztec princess and Cortez—” “As you said. You’re still dismissed, your highness.” Mia waved her toward the door, maintaining an aloof air until the other woman exited with

I thought he was going to yell but then he continued down the stairs, past the mess, past me, and out through the front doors without a word. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. The maid beside me exhaled too. "You're lucky," she whispered, barely audible. "Lucky how?" She shook her head quickly and went back to sweeping, like she'd already said too much. *** On the sixth day, the young maid who had almost smiled at me in the hallway sat across from me at the staff table at lunch. Her name was Rina. Twenty years old. Two years at the estate.

Mia says. "I have no interest in talking to you in private, Miss Costa. You are disrespectful to my fiance. Mia is beautiful and not a plain Jane. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't say I like those layers of makeup on your face, and I can see that everything is fake about you, even your personality. You have no taste in clothing, and I am not interested in second-hand goods like you! Everyone in the circles I move in knows you are just an expensive call girl," Riccardo says.

He firmly added as there was a round of applause in the room. Someone else would have found an excuse not to work. The person would have used their current state as an excuse, but Alejandro wasn't going to do that. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Mama," Maía said her first word. “Aaaw, she just said mama." Zendaya gushed as Maía repeated it. “Baby," Zendaya added carrying her and twirling her around. "Mama missed you baby." She pinched her chubby cheeks. “Welcome, Ma'am." Avana greeted taking her back upstairs.

The young man shook his head. I shook my head too and walked closer to them, sitting on the table in the office. Both men were on the couch. "Marco Marco, I've always dreamed of being with you. Sorry for being rude. I'm Alexandria Mae. Daughter of Gian Mae." I forced myself to say and flashed him what I hoped would come out as a seductive smile. He smiled in realization. "I've heard so much about you but have never seen you in real life. You're the bomb. What do you want?"

"What's wrong with dad? He blew off training this morning." "Really?," she asked, softly. I nodded my head. "I have no idea." My mom is a beautiful woman from another mafia. She married my dad to form an alliance which obviously ended up getting broken anyway. It happens a lot in our life. Many girls from other mafias have been sold or married off to another mafias. Sadly, that's just how things work around here. I'm not worried about that happening to me because I'm not 20 yet and my dad wouldn't do that to me.